Storm

TWENTY-FIVE

Every last survivor in Las Vegas had gathered together in an opulent theater that was supposed to look like the Roman Colosseum. Not that I’d ever been to the real Colosseum, but as far as I could tell, the only thing about this theater that looked like ancient Rome were some huge murals that I guessed were modeled after the originals. Everything else was slick and modern.

We had walked to the meeting along the Strip, past the destruction that the Retro planes had brought to the city. The beautiful indoor park where we had met some of the other survivors had been reduced to a pile of rubble with a few forlorn carousel horses poking their noses out of the debris. The Eiffel tower had been sheared off halfway to its peak. The upper section and the observation tower lay crumpled across the street. The only thing left of the huge bronze lion were four paws on a pedestal. The giant Coke bottle was smashed. The massive guitar had its neck broken off. Immense holes had been blown through many of the high-rise hotels. The Statue of Liberty was intact, but it lay across the road with its torch hand jammed against a broken palm tree.

As disastrous as it all appeared, Jon was right. The Retros had been shooting at empty buildings. When the final headcount was done, there was only one person who had died in the assault. It was Tom, Charlotte’s friend. And he hadn’t even died because of the attack. Jon had murdered him.

Jon himself didn’t count. He wasn’t one of us. He was a spy. His body lay alone in the cell that was normally used to hold people who tried to cheat the casino. I guess it was a fitting place for him to die.

The theater was packed, and the people were all nervously chattering.

Tori, Kent, and I took seats near the front of the large stage. We had been given that choice position because we had spent the last hour being interrogated by the Chiefs. It turned out that Charlotte was one of them. She hadn’t mentioned it before, but it made sense. She knew what she was doing.

We spent the time going over every detail of what we had learned about the Retros. After listening to what we had to say, Charlotte sent us to the Colosseum with another escort so that she and the Chiefs could factor whatever information we had given them into their plans.

The theater was fairly dark since the only lights were battery-powered floodlights that were trained on the stage. Camp lamps were scattered throughout the audience, creating an eerie atmosphere in which shadowy people moved through pools of light.

It struck me as risky to have everyone in the same room. If the Retros decided to attack early, a few well-placed bombs would wipe us out entirely.

The crowd hushed when three men and Charlotte walked onto the stage. They were the Chiefs. One of the men was Matt. The second guy went by the name of Harris. No first or last name, just Harris. He had short blond hair and walked like he had a back brace on. Though he had been living in the dark depths of Las Vegas, his white shirt looked as neat and crisp as if he had just ironed it. He definitely looked military. When we were being questioned, he hadn’t said much, but he was definitely taking it all in.

The last guy was a beefy character with a shaved head who went by the name of Cutter. Again, no first or last name. He had a thick neck and heavily muscled arms to match. During the interrogation, he was mostly interested to hear anything about how the black planes worked and what they could do. He took particular note of how we described the complete obliteration of so many of the planes when a missile struck their fuel tanks.

These people were professionals. It was easy to see why they were put in charge of planning the attack. All four strode with purpose to the center of the stage and stood in the spotlights.

“Okay, everybody,” Matt called out. He didn’t have to yell. The acoustics in the theater were perfect.

“We knew something like this would happen eventually,” he began. “What can I say? We blew it. The guy slipped through our security. But I want you to know that the kids he came with didn’t know what he was up to. They’re victims as much as we are.”

I felt the heat of a few nasty stares. I don’t think everybody agreed that we were totally innocent, and maybe they were right.

Matt continued, “It is what it is. What’s more important to know is that those planes will be back again tonight. Count on it. When it gets dark, Las Vegas will cease to exist.”

This prompted nervous murmurs from the crowd.

“Our evacuation plan has us going to Los Angeles,” Matt continued. “We can’t do that. We learned from the infiltrator that they’re planning another wave of mass executions, and the first stop will be LA.”

Once again, the crowd broke out with anxious murmurs. Matt had to raise his hands to quiet them down.

“The alternate city for us is San Diego,” he announced. “The corridor between LA and San Diego is a busy one. For those who want to go that route, it will be easy enough to disappear. My suggestion is to stay away from the city itself. Any big city. They’re going to be targeted again.”

A guy stood up in the second row and shouted, “We get it. We gotta get out. But what about the reason we came here?”

Many people shouted their support with “Yeah!” and that got everyone shouting out their opinion.

Matt quieted them down and continued.

“That’s what we’re here to decide,” he said. “We’ve got to leave here. Today. The question is, do we run? Or do we put the plan in motion that brought us here in the first place?”

Most everyone applauded and cheered the second option. These people were ready for action.

Matt beamed.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured. Before we go down that road, you have to understand, it’s going to be more dangerous now. We don’t believe the infiltrator had any specific knowledge of our plans, so he couldn’t pass them along. But the enemy will be on alert now. This mission was never going to be easy, but it just got a hell of a lot more difficult.”

The crowd became instantly quiet.

“So I’m putting it out there, if anybody wants to leave, do it now. Nobody will blame you. Take a car and head out. This is your chance. But if you stay, understand that you’re in till the end. We can’t risk letting any more information get out. If you try to leave after this briefing, you will be shot. I promise you that. I’ll give you a minute to think it over.”

The normally jovial guy had suddenly turned dark. I believed he meant what he said.

Many in the crowd shared conversations, no doubt rolling around the options.

I knew Tori would want to stay. I couldn’t say the same about Kent and Olivia.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I think I’m scared,” Olivia said. “I’m not a guerilla fighter.”

She got no argument from me.

“Maybe I should take Olivia out of here,” Kent offered. “She won’t make it on her own. We’ll go to Florida like she wanted in the first place.”

Tori said, “So that means you don’t want to fight, Kent?”

“No!” Kent said defensively. “I’m just thinking about Olivia. I don’t know if she can handle this.”

“I can’t,” she said, obviously shaken. “Look at me. I’m only here because I had nowhere else to go. I don’t want any part of a fight. Kent, will you stay with me?”

“You know I will,” Kent said reassuringly. “You just saved my life. I owe you, and I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

I believed he meant it. He really did care about Olivia, and now that she had saved his life he was determined to take care of her. It was out of character for him, which made it all the more noble. Though I respected his feelings, it left me with a huge dilemma. Based on what Captain Granger told me, any one of these three could be Retro infiltrators. I didn’t want to believe it, but it was a definite possibility. If Kent and Olivia walked, they could go right to the Retros and tell them we were getting ready to attack, and that would be the end of the survivors. If they wanted to leave, I would have to tell the Chiefs. I had no doubt that they’d assume the worst… and that could be the end of Kent and Olivia.

But if they were both innocent, then Olivia was absolutely right. There was no way she could fight, no matter what kind of fight it was.

Neither option was a good one, but if she stayed with us, at least she’d have a chance.

And I could keep an eye on her.

“You can’t leave, Olivia,” I said. “Neither of you can.”

“Why not?” she asked, holding back panic. “Matt said—”

“They’re already suspicious of us because we brought Jon in. I don’t care what Matt says, if you try to leave they’ll assume the worst, and who knows what they’ll do. They might just shoot you.”

“What?” Olivia cried. “Why?”

“That’s what they’ve done with Retros who tried to infiltrate. I think if you walk out of that door, you’re dead.”

The two of them looked sick. I was being harsh, but it was the only way I could think of to get them to stay.

Olivia looked to Kent with pleading eyes. “Would they really do that?”

Kent was visibly shaken. “I… I don’t know. I guess it’s possible.”

“If you stay, at least you’ve got a chance,” I said. “If you leave…”

I let them fill in the rest.

“Now is the time,” Matt announced to the crowd. “If you’re leaving, go now, and good luck to you.”

A handful of people got up and jogged for the exits. Their departure was met with absolute silence. There were no cheers and no insults. There was only stone-cold silence.

I looked at Kent and Olivia. Would they leave? Was I going to have to turn them in as possible traitors?

Olivia fidgeted in her seat.

Kent dropped his head into his hands.

Neither stood up.

It was settled. We would all be in it until the end, together.

When the final door slammed, Matt looked over the crowd.

“Is that it?” he called.

There was no response.

“Fine. I want one person on every door. Nobody comes in, nobody leaves.”

A group of men and women scrambled for the exit doors and took up their positions.

“My God,” Olivia whispered under her breath. “This can’t be happening.”

“Are we secure?” Matt called out.

He was answered by the teams at the doors, who each called out, “Secure!”

“All right then,” Matt bellowed. “We’ve been preparing for weeks. We’ve scouted every inch of terrain. We have the plan. We have the will. Today is the day we fight back!”

A roar of approval went up from the crowd.

Kent looked ready to puke.

“Most of you have heard bits and pieces of the plan, but we haven’t shared it all for security reasons. It’s time you heard it all.”

He stepped back, and the Chief with the short blond hair, Harris, stepped into the spotlight. He spoke with the same precision that he carried himself. His words were clipped and to the point.

“You all know me,” he announced. “You also know that I’ve run many operations for the CIA. There’s no sense in keeping that a secret since there no longer is a CIA.”

A woman appeared at the end of our aisle with two stacks of papers. She took one from each and passed them to the next person. The same thing happened all over the theater.

“We used gas-powered generators to power the copy machines,” Harris explained. “There’s nothing classified about the information. We got the images from the city library. One is a road map of the area. The other is a satellite photo. Please take one of each.”

When I got mine, I saw that one was a simple roadmap with Las Vegas near the bottom. There was an X designation in the desert that looked to be a hundred miles or so northwest of the city. The other was an aerial photo of what looked like a military air base.

“The map with Las Vegas covers several hundred miles,” Harris said. “The X marks the location of the airfield you see in the other photo. That base has gone by many names. Groom Lake Test Facility, Paradise Ranch, Watertown, Detachment 3, Air Force Flight Test Center, and several more that refer to the various military detachments that have been based there over the years. It is most commonly known by the simple designation Area 51.”

Kent shot me a quick look.

“That’s where they keep the aliens!” he whispered.

“It’s no secret that this base has been used for decades in the development of advanced military aircraft. Contrary to popular myth, there are no aliens or alien spacecraft hidden there, at least to the best of my knowledge.”

I looked at Kent.

He shrugged. “That’s what he says.”

“I know little about the base other than the fact that its primary function was to be an aircraft design and test center. That function has changed. It is now the base from which the Air Force has been launching their attacks.”

Matt added, “We’ve had scouts observing the base for weeks. They see when the fleets take off and when they return. Our guesstimate is that at any given time there are at least seven hundred planes on the ground.”

That got gasps of surprise from the crowd.

Seven hundred planes? How could the Air Force have kept that many planes secret from the rest of the world?

Harris continued, “There are no facilities on the base for construction on such a massive scale. Our best guess is that they were assembled at several locations and brought to Nevada. Trust me when I say that the CIA was not aware of it.”

Matt said, “From what we learned, they are gearing up for another assault on major cities, starting with Los Angeles. That brings us to our mission.”

Matt looked to the bald guy, Cutter. He stepped forward and gazed at the crowd as if sizing them up.

“I have been a proud member of the United States Marine Corps Special Ops for over five years,” he began with authority. “I’ve served in Iran and Afghanistan and a few other places I’d rather not discuss, so I guess I know what I’m talking about, and what I know for certain is that this will be a hazardous undertaking,”

The guy sounded a little too proud of himself, but if he knew what he was doing, I wasn’t going to criticize.

“Our goal is simple,” he said. “We’re going to cripple the enemy.”

That got a rousing cheer and sustained applause. Cutter stood basking in it.

Matt had to step up and raise his hands to calm everyone down. I think Cutter would have liked the cheering to go on.

“As I said, this will not be easy,” Cutter continued. “Small teams will penetrate the base. Each operative will carry ten of these devices.”

He held up an object that looked like a silver hockey puck.

“We picked these up on a little shopping trip to Camp Pendleton last week. Each one of these contains enough C-4 to blow a hole through a fuselage and damage the avionics, rendering the drones inoperative. From what we’ve recently heard if the charge is anywhere near the planes power source, it’ll do more than just cripple the craft. It’ll evaporate it. Either way, if the planes can’t fly, people won’t die.”

That got more cheers.

“Catchy,” I whispered to Tori.

She rolled her eyes.

The crowd calmed down, and Cutter continued.

“These devices are completely harmless until the detonator is armed. Observe.”

He shook the silver puck. He threw it in the air and caught it. He threw it up and let it bounce off of the stage.

I have to admit, I flinched when it hit the floor.

He stomped on it with his boot. There was no boom.

“You’ll go through this again with our group leaders,” he explained. “But I will now demonstrate how to make these bad boys dangerous. One: Peel the plastic sheet off of the bottom. That will uncover a layer of adhesive. Two: Slap it onto the fuselage. Trust me, it will not come off. Three: Activate the timer. Each device will be preset to explode exactly thirty minutes after it is made active. The timing is not something you will be able to change. You prime the detonator by entering the four-digit code.”

He held the explosive up to show there was a small keypad on the opposite face from the adhesive.

“The code is the same for all the devices. Four-three-two-one. That was my idea. It’s easy to remember because there’s always a countdown before the boom.”

“He’s kind of a tool,” Tori whispered to me.

Surprisingly, the tool pressed the four buttons.

“Four-three-two-one,” he announced.

A green light appeared above the keypad.

“The green light means the clock is ticking. This particular device has been set to detonate in sixty seconds. Six-oh. The only way to disarm it is to input the code in reverse. One-two-three-four. I will not do that.”

Even more surprisingly, he didn’t.

Cutter moved unhurriedly to the back of the stage and placed the device on the floor.

“Is that thing really going to blow up?” Olivia asked me, incredulous.

From the nervous murmurs in the audience, most everyone was wondering the same thing.

“Last thing,” Cutter said. “Number four: Get the hell out of there.”

He walked quickly to the other Chiefs, herding them protectively to the side of the stage.

The theater had gone deathly quiet. All eyes were on the small silver disk.

“You might want to cover your ears,” Cutter announced.

Everyone did as they were told, except Cutter. I guess his ears were too tough.

“This is crazy,” Olivia cried. “He wouldn’t really—”

The disk exploded with a sharp, short boom that spewed a cloud of smoke from the detonation point.

I jumped, and I’m sure everyone else did too.

It took several seconds for the sound to stop echoing through the huge theater.

Cutter walked calmly back to center stage, waving away the smoke. “Each one of these devices holds five ounces of C-4,” he explained. “This is the result.”

There was a manhole-sized hole in the stage.

Cutter straddled the damage and said, “It’ll blast through the thin hull of a plane like paper. With nearly a thousand of these charges, we will put the enemy out of business.”

There was a stunned moment of silence, followed by an outburst of emotion. People stood and cheered. They screamed. They whistled. They clapped their hands and each other on the back. Cutter stood triumphantly over the hole in the stage and held his arms out as if to embrace the outpouring of emotion.

I have to admit, I got swept up in it too. Before that demonstration I had no idea how a group of untrained civilians could go up against the Retros. Whether it was real or wishful thinking, I now saw the possibility.

We were separated into four groups and sent to smaller rooms to continue the briefing. The four of us went with the group that ended up in a large carpeted meeting room at the Caesar’s Palace hotel. The room had windows, so we were able to see without headlamps. That was great. But there were no chairs. That wasn’t so great. We had to sit on the floor.

The four Chiefs rotated through, each giving us a little more information. With a smaller group we were able to ask questions.

“This all sounds great,” one guy asked Harris. “But there’s a whole lot of open desert between here and there. What’s stopping those Retros from taking us out before we even get there? I mean, we’ve got some nifty little bombs, but there won’t be any armored tanks running cover for us.”

“Valid question,” Harris answered with cool efficiency. “Our plan is based on one very important bit of information. We do not believe that the base is manned.”

Everyone erupted with surprise at hearing that.

Harris sat calmly, waiting for everyone to settle down again.

Kent was the one who stood and put it right to him.

“That’s crazy,” he said. “It’s an Air Force base with hundreds of planes. They’ve got to be guarding that!”

“You would think,” Harris answered. “But we have had eyes on that base for weeks. Mostly the eyes of the Paiute Native American tribe. This is their world.”

I remembered the people on horseback in the Valley of Fire who watched as we were being captured by the biker survivors. They must have been tribe members.

“When the base was operative, before the attack, you couldn’t get within five miles of the place. The perimeter was under constant surveillance. Now we have scouts who have gotten close enough to see the planes taxiing on the runways. Some have even walked right up to the aircraft parked on the periphery. They’ve taken note of all the comings and goings. Only on a rare occasion have they seen a living person. So there are people on the base, but not enough of a force to actually defend it.”

“How can that be?” someone asked from the back. “Somebody has to be operating the planes.”

“They’re drones,” I said, answering the question for Harris. “We’ve seen dozens of wrecks. Close up. They aren’t large enough for a pilot. They’re just flying weapons.”

“Exactly,” Harris said. “What we don’t know is where they are being controlled from. At Area 51 there are very few people. We’ve seen no deliveries of supplies. No arrivals or departures by plane or car.”

“So the base itself could be a drone,” Tori said, thinking aloud.

“That’s what we think. And because of that, we believe we can send in small teams to get to the planes. Starting two hours before sunset, teams of four will take off in cars, five minutes apart, headed for the base. Each team’s map will be marked with the route they should take, where they should leave the main road, and how they should approach the base. All this was provided by the Paiute. Each team member will have ten of the charges you saw Cutter demonstrate. The task is simple: Fix a charge on a plane, activate the timer, repeat the process until all the charges have been set, and get out. You should be at the base for no more than five minutes.”

Kent asked, “And where do we go after that?”

“Anywhere you’d like,” Harris replied. “Except here or Los Angeles.”

“Or any other big city,” Kent added.

“This is way riskier than you’re thinking,” I warned. “There may not be many people there, but these planes have eyes. If one of them catches sight of a caravan of cars headed their way, I don’t care if the operator is in the cockpit or sitting at a control console in Russia: They’ll come after us.”

“Agreed,” Harris said. “It’s the riskiest aspect of the mission. Our hope is that the enemy will not anticipate us doing anything so audacious and therefore won’t be scanning the airfield for intruders. Perhaps there will be an advantage to the fact that they plan to attack Las Vegas tonight. Their attention will be focused here and not on their own base.”

Tori said, “So basically we’re just hoping they won’t be looking.”

“Yes, but our confidence is high.”

Tori and I exchanged looks. Our confidence wasn’t as high.

The briefing continued with Cutter demonstrating how to set the charges again and reminding us that they will detonate thirty minutes after the timer is activated. Matt offered us escape routes and places to disappear after the mission. Charlotte came in to announce that once the mission was complete, the Chiefs would regroup at a yet-to-be-announced location and begin transmitting again to bring the survivors back together.

The whole mission sounded shaky, but the idea of taking out seven hundred of those retro planes made me want to risk it.

By the time we had finished all of our briefings, it was midafternoon, a few hours before the sabotage teams would start heading toward Area 51. Several people came in with food. They gave us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, canned fruit, and energy drinks. It wasn’t until I had to go to the bathroom and was sent with an escort that I realized nobody was ever left alone. Matt hadn’t been kidding. Whoever stayed for the briefing now had vital information that could be sent to the Retros. They weren’t taking any chances.

I wondered if my warning to Kent and Olivia had been real. Had the people who took off really been allowed to go? Or were their bodies now lying in the desert? I didn’t want to know.

When I got back from the bathroom, I saw Kent sitting by himself at the far end of the huge room, eating his sandwich. As if the danger of this mission weren’t enough, I had the additional stress of knowing that one of my friends might be a Retro infiltrator. My hope was that Granger was wrong about that, but since Jon proved to be a rat, the possibility didn’t seem so remote.

In that split second I made a decision to try to find out if I was going to be in even more danger on this already crazy mission, so I took a chance and approached Kent.

“Nervous?” Kent asked as I walked up to him.

He had no idea how appropriate a question that was.

“I gotta ask you something,” I said while standing over him. “When we were at Faneuil Hall, where did you disappear to everyday?”

Kent stopped chewing. He wasn’t expecting that question.

“Whenever I asked, you got all angry and told me to mind my own business,” I added.

“Yeah, so?” he said casually. “Now you think it’s your business?”

“Yeah, I do,” I said boldly.

“Why do you care?” he asked evasively.

“Because after what happened with Jon, I’m not so sure I trust anybody anymore,” I said, pretty much spelling out my fear. “We were in a camp run by Retros. What were you doing?”

He really didn’t expect that from me. Kent sat there and stared me right in the eyes for a good long time. I tensed up, expecting him to leap up and jump me. Kent was a hothead. I knew that from playing football with him.

If he was innocent, he could easily have gotten so pissed at me for questioning him that he might lose it and lash out.

If he was guilty, he was trapped in the middle of a whole bunch of people who just might tear him apart if the truth came out.

Keeping me quiet might be his only play. If he attacked, I was ready.

He finally took a deep breath and dropped his sandwich on the floor.

“I just lost my appetite,” he said ruefully.

I didn’t relax.

“I don’t owe you any explanation, Pierce,” he said. “We’re not friends, and I’ve never liked you much. But we’ve been through a lot together, and I guess that counts for something, so I’ll be honest with you. I didn’t tell you what I was doing because I was embarrassed.”

It was my turn to be surprised.

“About what?”

“Because I didn’t want to work. You and Tori and even Olivia were all pitching in and doing your part and being good little campers, but I didn’t want any part of that.”

“So what did you do? Nap?”

“Pretty much. I tried to find a place where I could just hang out, but Chris Campbell found me. I thought he was going to be all mad, but he said he had something better I could be doing. He totally busted me, so I had to go along. He didn’t take me some place to work though, he took me some place to work out.”

“Work out? You mean like at a gym?”

“Exactly. There were a bunch of younger guys working out in an empty health club place. Hardcore stuff. Lots of cardio and lifting. Chris said he picked out the most athletic guys to be part of a program to get in top shape in case the time ever came when Faneuil Hall had to be defended. I was psyched. I mean, I like working out, and I was flattered that he thought I was worthy of that responsibility. I was one of the elite who were chosen to protect us all. So here he was giving me a chance to get out of manual labor and do the exact thing I liked so much. I didn’t want to tell you guys because I knew you’d say I was slacking.”

“You know you weren’t getting in shape to defend Faneuil Hall, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, I figured that out. We weren’t being trained as commandos; we were being pumped up to be the heavy-lifting slaves at Fenway Park. I thought we were something special, but we were nothing more than trained workhorses. So you can see why I wasn’t real proud about letting that out.”

“I get it,” was all I could say.

“You feel better now, Pierce?” he asked bitterly. “Does that prove I wasn’t plotting something evil?”

I almost apologized, but the truth was that while it answered one question, it didn’t prove that Kent was innocent.

“I don’t care if you like me or not,” I said. “But don’t keep any more secrets.”

Kent chuckled and said, “Don’t worry. We’ll probably all be dead soon anyway.”

“Are you two talking about me?” Olivia asked brightly as she joined us.

“I’m always talking about you,” Kent said, being all charming.

He held his hand up to her. She took it and sat down next to him. Close.

“Sit, Tucker,” she said.

“Thanks, my food’s over there. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

I left the two of them feeling only a slight bit better about Kent. At least the biggest suspicion I had about him was put to rest… assuming he was telling the truth. The story sure sounded like typical Kent. He had a very high opinion of himself, and if somebody stroked his ego, he’d go along. Especially if it meant getting out of work. But it still didn’t prove that he wasn’t a Retro turncoat. And I still had to worry about Tori and Olivia.

I went back to the opposite side of the ballroom to be alone. I wanted time to collect my thoughts and let all of the information sink in. I sat on the floor with my sandwich, ready to eat, but I didn’t get the chance.

“We need to talk,” Tori said.

“Sure, pull up a piece of carpet.”

She sat down and began to eat her sandwich. She didn’t jump right in with what she wanted to talk about, which meant something was bothering her. It took a good five minutes of silent eating before she finally opened up.

“I’m not going to be on your team,” she announced.

That threw me.

“Uh… why?”

“A lot of reasons, but mostly because I don’t trust you. There. Done. I’m sorry.”

She moved to get up, but I grabbed her arm.

“Wait.”

She pulled her arm away but stayed.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I had to say something. If we left on separate teams, we might never see each other again. I couldn’t let it end like that.

“I won’t argue,” I said. “Do what you gotta do. But I want you to know that I heard everything you told me in Kentucky, and I agree with you. Every move we’ve made, that I’ve pushed you guys into making, was about me getting what I wanted. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Tori nodded. “It wasn’t all your fault,” she said. “I bought into it. I bought into you. I really did believe we needed each other, and for somebody who has taken care of herself for most of her life, that’s saying something.”

I couldn’t have felt any lower.

“That night,” she said. “When I begged you to come to Nevada with me…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. The memory stung.

I was wrong—I could feel lower.

“I put myself out there,” she continued, fighting back tears. “You even told me that you loved me. That moment… it seemed as though no matter what happened, we would have each other’s backs. Stupid me, huh? You’d already decided to take off on us and go after Granger on your own, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“You should have told me the truth, Tucker,” she said, her voice hardening. “The next morning, when I heard what you’d done, that’s when it all came clear. I can’t tell you how to feel, or what to want, but I deserve to know the truth. We all do.”

“I know,” I said. “Going after Granger was insane.”

“No,” Tori said. “Abandoning us was insane.”

I couldn’t argue with her. Here I had warned Kent about keeping secrets, and I was just as guilty as he was.

“What do you really want, Tucker? What’s driving you? Is it still about getting revenge for Quinn? Do you still think you can go back to Pemberwick Island and mow lawns someday? What is it you think is going to happen?”

She was forcing me to think about things in a way that I had been avoiding for a long time.

“Anger is easy,” I said. “It makes sense. So does wanting things to be fixed. It’s natural to get all righteous and demand to get back what we lost. It’s a lot harder to face the unknown and accept that things can never be the same. So I guess I don’t know what I want, and that’s the scariest thing of all. Almost as scary as losing your friendship.”

I desperately wanted her to look me in the eye, but she wouldn’t.

“What is it you want, Tori?” I asked. “You’ve wanted to fight back, and now you’ve got your chance. What happens after that?”

Tori stared at the floor for a good long time, giving a lot of thought to her answer.

“What I want isn’t about a place,” she finally said. “Or going home. Or trying to recapture what I used to have. I’m not so sure I’d want that even if I could have it. What I want is to know what’s going to happen tomorrow, and the next day, and to know that somebody will be there with me.”

She finally looked at me, and I saw that she had tears in her eyes. That’s the moment I fully realized how much I had failed her. She gave me a sad smile and said, “It’s the exact same thing I wanted before I ever heard of SYLO.”

I wanted to reach out and hold her but didn’t dare.

“I wish I could give that to you,” I said.

She wiped her eyes and said, “Yeah, well, whatever.”

I expected her to leave, but she didn’t. It gave me faint hope that maybe we could start over again.

I had been struggling with a decision for a while. It wasn’t until that moment that I finally made up my mind. It might prove to be a huge mistake. A fatal one. But I had to take the chance.

“I want to tell you something,” I said, lowering my voice to be sure that nobody would overhear. “Back in Fort Knox, before the Retros attacked, Granger told me something that’s been torturing me.”

“Granger?” Tori said. “Why would you listen to anything he said?”

“Because it made sense.”

I had her full attention.

“He told me not to trust anyone. My mother told me the same thing in the SYLO prison.”

“So?”

“So he told me that the whole time he was chasing us down, in the rebel camp and through the battle on the ocean, he wasn’t after me.”

“Of course he was,” Tori said, scoffing. “He was after all of us because we were trying to escape from the island.”

“No, he wasn’t. He was after Retro infiltrators.”

“That’s bull. There weren’t any…”

Tori stopped talking, and her eyes went wide. She tried to form words but had trouble putting them together.

“I… I’m not a Retro,” she finally said.

“I didn’t think you were. That’s why I’m telling you this.”

Tori glanced to the far side of the room, where Olivia and Kent were sitting close to one another, giggling about something.

“I don’t believe it,” she said, more out of surprise than true disbelief.

“I wish I didn’t, but it’s hard not to wonder. Especially after what happened with Jon. That’s why I put the hardcore press on them to stay.”

Tori kept staring at them, as if she were looking for some clue that would tell her they were innocent… or not.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“What really happened on Pemberwick?” she asked. “Did Granger and SYLO set out to ruin everyone’s lives? Or were they trying to protect us?”

“You’ve said that before. I don’t know. It’s hard to believe, but it sure makes it easier to accept that my parents were helping him.”

“It’s time!” Matt announced as he strode into the ballroom.

Everyone slowly got to their feet and stretched.

“Has everyone been assigned to a team?” he asked.

There were general grunts of agreement.

I looked at Tori. This was her chance to bail.

She reached out, took my hand, and gave me a small smile.

I didn’t know if she trusted me any more than before, but at least this meant we would be together until the end. I’d take the victories where I could get them.

“Everyone has a starting position?” Matt called out.

Same response.

I looked at the number I was given. Number six. We would be leaving in the sixth wave.

“Good,” Matt said. “There’s nothing more to say but… good luck. I’m proud of you all. Group number one, come with me. I’ll come back to fetch the next group shortly.”

He strode out of the room as four people hitched up their packs and headed after him. The rest of the room broke out in spontaneous applause. It was a heroes’ sendoff.

“This is really going to happen,” Tori said.

“Sure is!” Kent announced as he joined us.

Olivia was right behind him with wide, nervous eyes.

“I gotta admit,” Kent said. “I wasn’t sure at first, but now I’m looking forward to this mission. It’s gonna feel good to kick those guys where it hurts. Thanks for talking us into this, Tucker.”

Olivia winced as if she had been hit in the stomach. She didn’t offer me any thanks.

“The main thing we have to do is stay together,” I said. “Let’s make sure we can always see one another.”

“Don’t worry,” Kent said, as cocky as ever. “I’ve got our back, whether you think so or not.”

“Thanks,” I replied. What I didn’t say was, “We’d better stay together, because if any of you sneak off, I’ll know that you’re going to try to warn the Retros.”

One by one the teams were called out of the ballroom. Each group got their own round of applause and cheers of encouragement.

During one cheer I leaned in to Tori and whispered, “Did they give you your gun back?”

She nodded.

That was reassuring.

“Team number six!” the escort called.

“That’s us!” Kent announced. “Saddle up!”

“Oh God,” Olivia blurted out.

As we walked from the room, we got the same applause as the others.

Kent waved to the room like he was some hero who had actually done something to deserve it. Idiot.

The escort led us first to the hotel lobby, where Cutter was waiting with four small backpacks, each holding ten charges.

“You’ve got your maps?” he asked.

We all nodded.

“Take off at exactly sixteen thirty hours,” he said.

“When?” Kent asked, confused.

“Four thirty.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that?”

Cutter shot him a dirty look and said, “Once you hit the interstate, pick it up to eight-five miles an hour until you hit the exit point marked on your map. You should have all the charges attached and activated by twenty hundred, uh, eight o’clock. Then get on your horse and out of there, because thirty minutes later… boom.”

“That’s it?” I asked. “That’s all the instruction we get?”

“What more do you want?” he asked. “Get out of there fast. How’s that?”

I didn’t like Cutter. He was way too cocky, like he was putting on a show of being a Special Forces guy to impress us.

“Head outside. Charlotte has your ride.” He then held out his hand to shake and said, “Good luck, son.”

He said it with absolute sincerity and no bluster. That simple gesture made me realize he was just as nervous about what was about to happen as everybody else.

I shook his hand and said, “Thanks. Same to you.”

He shook each of our hands. Olivia actually gave him a hug. He wasn’t ready for it and was stiff at first, but then loosened up and gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

“I’m sorry you kids have to do this,” he said. “But I’m proud that you are. You guys are already heroes. It’s an honor to serve with you.”

Olivia broke away, and we all headed outside.

Tori whispered to me, “Okay, maybe he’s not such a tool after all.”

We walked out of the front doors of the hotel, where Charlotte stood in the driveway beside a green Range Rover.

“All gassed up and ready to go,” she announced cheerily.

We put our gear in back, and I went right for the driver’s side.

“I’ll drive, Tori navigates,” I announced with authority. I didn’t leave any room for discussion.

Charlotte was waiting for me at the driver’s door.

“Any questions, pardner?” she asked.

“Only about a million.”

“I’m sorry, Tucker. I should have seen through Jon’s act.”

“That makes all of us,” I said. “We spent a lot more time with him.”

“But I’m supposedly the expert. It was my job.”

She glanced out to the street and the devastation that Jon had brought on. When night fell, it would get far worse.

“I can’t believe I’m sending kids off to do something like this,” she said wistfully.

“Yeah, well, like you said: We may be young, but we’re not kids anymore.”

“I know, and it kills me.”

She reached out and hugged me.

“You’re incredible,” she said. “You all are. Please be careful.”

“We’ll see you afterward,” I said. “Somewhere. You realize this is just the beginning.”

“Let’s hope so,” she said.

She walked off to set up the next team, revealing Tori, who had been standing behind her.

“We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?” she asked.

“Looks like it,” I replied. “There’s just one thing I gotta know first.”

“What’s that?”

“Why the hell were y ou making out with Kent at the racetrack?”

Tori’s jaw dropped, and her eyes went wide with shock and embarrassment.

“You saw that?”

I smiled, which broke the tension.

She smiled back and shrugged. “I gave it a shot. What the hell? Big mistake. It was gross.”

“Kind of how I felt about being with Olivia in the shower.”

“Liar.”

“Guilty.”

“Hey!” Kent yelled, sticking his head out of the window. “We’re on a schedule.”

Tori gave me a killer smile and said, “Let’s go blow ’em away.”

As she hurried around to the passenger side, I gazed out at what was left of Las Vegas. Being part of this operation gave me a jolt of confidence that I hadn’t felt in, well, ever. At least not since my old life was destroyed. It was time for payback.

I got in the car, threw it into gear, and hit the gas.

It was a good feeling.

We were finally going on offense.